


Heteroflexible

by Coprolite



Category: B.A.P
Genre: Crossdressing, M/M, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-05
Updated: 2018-04-05
Packaged: 2019-04-18 22:11:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14222856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Coprolite/pseuds/Coprolite
Summary: Youngjae goes to a male strip club dressed as a girl because he totally isn’t gay.





	Heteroflexible

**Author's Note:**

> happy birthday, jing. I'll edit this later.

Youngjae’s not gay—well, at least, he’s pretty sure. Not that there’s anything wrong with being gay, but Youngjae is just sure he isn’t. Maybe.

Fuck.

It’s hard to argue for his non-queerness when he’s wearing a dress and a wig in front of a male strip club (named _The Cheery-O_ ). Women glance at him as they enter the erotic establishment. The many hoards flaunt sashes that say _maid of honor_ and _bride_.

Youngjae’s hands are clammy as he tries to hype himself up to finally enter the place for the umpteenth time. The bouncer inside throws him a sympathetic look each time the door swings open. Youngjae can only imagine what’s going through the buffer man’s head; it must be along the lines of, “Oh, this poor, inexperienced girl.” And he’d be right, aside from the gender.

After all, he’s never had a girlfriend. Okay, he’s lying. He had one in first grade. Besides that, though, he imagines women are infinitely more complex than a playground wedding.

As for why he lacks any knowledge concerning women, despite his twenty-three years of life, may be due to his nonexistent attraction to them. That’s not to say he’s gay, however. He just happens to find gay porn more interesting on an intellectual level. Yeah.

Youngjae gnaws on his lower lip as his mind runs rampant with thoughts and conflicting attitudes. This was a dumb idea, Youngjae groans. All he wanted to do was affirm his heterosexuality by visiting a strip club. But, also, he didn’t want to stand out among the crowds of women. _No straight man would do what he has done._

He drove two towns over to avoid further detection, too. He even parked his car three blocks away in case someone managed to recognize his car. He’s already come this far; he can’t back out now. Otherwise, he would have shaven all of his body hair and shopped for the perfect dress for nothing.

(he wonders if the sale’s associate at the mall really believed his lie about shopping for a girlfriend. she hadn’t asked youngjae for his imaginary lover’s size, instead leading him to clothes that were perfectly suited for his physique…)

Youngjae takes several deep breaths in and out before straightening out his posture. With clenched fists, he throws the door open. The bouncer raises a brow at the entrance. The man has a look in his eye, like that of a proud parent. It’s as if he’s just witnessed his first child learn to walk.

The place is full of bachelorette parties illuminated by pink flashing lights. Unlike men, Youngjae doubts that many women are willing to come to places like these alone—God, that’s what he’s done.

He believes his disguise is quite good. He doubts anyone will see past his beautiful shoulder length brown curls and fake lashes. Youngjae never does anything halfheartedly. If he’s going to begin his own startup company then he will. If he’s going to make himself into a girl then by God he will turn the head of every man at a bar.

He briefly contemplates trying to blend in with a bachelorette party, but notices a dancer off in a more deserted corner. This man is more fully clothed than the other workers who have dollar bills stuffed in their thongs. A clothed man will help to calm his frantic heartbeat that almost manages to match the quick tempo of the club’s music.

Youngjae slips into a chair by the stage. The dancer is dressed like an office worker: pristine, white collar shirt, tie, and slacks. His belt is unbuckled, yet still hanging onto his swaying hips. The clasp jingles to the music.

Youngjae sits legs crossed and back an inch away from the chair. His fingers thread themselves against his dress as he blushes a deep scarlet at his lap. Youngjae looks up and sees the dancer with his gaze fixated on him as he twirls around the stage pole. The man moves to the song as if the metal pole were an extension of himself.

If Youngjae wasn’t such a chronic lip biter, his jaw would have surely falen open while watching the dancer. Handsome is not a word Youngjae uses easily, this man, though, is easily a Greek god in his eyes. He’s young and enigmatic like Apollo. Hints of his muscles peek out as the shirt’s fabric ripples against his taut arms.

The man approaches Youngjae with a boyish smile sure to rob many women a night. The man nods down as if telling Youngjae to loosen the tie around his neck further and strip it off of him.

“My name’s Zelo. What’s yours, beautiful?”

His stage name is even related to Greek mythology.

Without his chair, Youngjae’s knees would buckle under his own weight.

“J-jae,” he whispers out as the tie slips away from Zelo’s neck and into his trembling hands.

Youngjae fiddles with the satin tie in his hands as he continues to be mesmerized by the man’s moves.

Youngjae’s almost visibly shaking when Zelo’s shirt comes off, buttons landing all around the stage. He takes an unsteady breath. Fuck.

Gay.

Gay.

Gay.

Youngjae is so fucking gay and this man has just shone him the light.

He’s so rattled by this realization that Youngjae fumbles around in his purse—why don’t dresses have pockets?—and pulls out a hundred dollars. Youngjae wishes he could provide more to the person who has definitively proven how queer he is to himself, but it’s all he has on him. He slips it onto the stage and runs outside, uncertain what to do with the new information.

In his rush, Youngjae forgets to drop the tie and runs off with it. He only realizes his mistake when he’s already driven himself home. Add thief to Youngjae’s new list of descriptors.

That night, Youngjae lays in bed—makeup wiped away, wig tossed aside, and dress in the hamper. The lights are off but he’s still seeing stars as he remembers Zelo as his shirt came off, revealing a perfectly chiseled chest with muscles Youngjae wants to run his fingers down. They followed the curves of his body sinfully with a v-shape moving down beneath his pants.

Youngjae tries to focus his attention to the ceiling but it does little to distract him. Cautiously, his hand slides down his stomach and to the hem of his sweatpants. His fingers thumb the waistband before moving lower.

God, he’s hard just thinking back to Zelo’s performance. Youngjae takes a hold of his member and begins to stroke himself. He imagines being back in the club and being on the stage with him. The satin tie would be wrapped around his eyes. Each touch from Zelo would be a mystery and a shock to the senses.

Zelo would tease Youngjae’s nipples as he kissed a line down his neck. Eventually, after Youngjae has moaned his throat sore, Zelo’s hand would descend upon Youngjae’s cock and begin to softly move his large hand up and down it. Youngjae’s hips would buck up to meet his movements as he whines. And against his back, Youngjae would feel the other’s hard, throbbing cock strained against the office slacks. Youngjae would mewl and grind against the bulge. The grip on Youngjae’s penis would tighten as Zelo hisses through clenched teeth.

“You want it bad, don’t you?” Zelo would whisper hoarsely into his ear and Youngjae would moan and beg to be fucked.

Fuck.

Youngjae’s just ruined his favorite pair of sweatpants.

 

The next evening, he’s pacing back and forth outside the club. A paper bag holding the stolen tie rattles by his hip with each neurotic step of his. He had to buy a new dress to come back.

(he returned to the mall and the sale’s associate asked him if he liked that last dress and suggested another one. he’ll have to tell her supervisor how much he appreciates her service)

All he has to do is go inside and return it. Hell, he could probably just give it to the bouncer. Zelo might not even be working tonight. Youngjae hasn’t a clue what the work hours of a dancer is like. He resists the urge to pull at his hair which would cause the expensive wig to fall off his head.

The last thing Youngjae wants is to cause a scene outside a strip club. He’d rather not appear in the news and tarnish the name of his tiny company. He writes people’s paychecks, after all. He’ll download _Grindr_ or something, that’s way cheaper than a dressing as a girl and going to a strip club.

Youngjae sighs and opens the door with the eyes of a fawn that’s stumbled upon a hunter. He’ll hand the bag to the bouncer and be on his way home and never think about this incident ever again. But the bouncer interrupts him as Youngjae opens his mouth.

“Oh, good, you’re back. Junhong wouldn’t shut up about you last night. He’s working the bar tonight,” the man points to the right.

Youngjae clears his throat, “Actually, I just wanted to return—”

“Jae!”

Youngjae hears his name screamed across the club and at the bar is Zelo frantically waving his arms. His enthusiasm mirrors a man stranded on an island finally seeing a helicopter.

“Don’t keep the love sick brat waiting,” the bouncer laughs.

Youngjae slowly makes his way to the bar while chewing on his thumb.

“I’m so glad you came back. I hope Yongguk didn’t say anything weird to you,” Zelo beams from behind the counter. “Do you want something to drink? It’ll be on me,” Zelo leans in closer to whisper into Youngjae’s ear. “Both figuratively and literally if you’d like.”

Youngjae lets out a squeak, his eyes wide. “Ah… no—uhhh, I’m here to return your tie. I’m s-sorry about accidentally taking it last night.” He shoves the bag nearly into Zelo’s face. “I really do mean it when I say accidentally.”

Zelo’s face softens, “I hope you didn’t only come back for that. Although, I do appreciate it. I planned to wear that tie for a job interview soon. But, you know, I’m not that tight on money I can’t afford another tie or two.” He takes the bag and places it on the floor behind the counter. “I’m supposed to be working the counter tonight, but I wouldn’t be opposed to being booked for a private show.”

“I-I didn’t bring my wallet.” Youngjae flubs.

Zelo takes his hand and leads him further to the back, “That’s fine.”

The private rooms are approximately the size of a college dorm. They’re not that big, but definitely more spacious than a closet. There’s a smaller stage in the room and a couch directed in front of it.

“Sit back and enjoy,” Zelo flashes a smile as he seats Youngjae.

A different playlist to that of the club plays through the room’s speakers. The sound is less sensual and light compared to outside. Zelo’s songs are more hip hop influenced with sprinkles of rap lyrics.

Youngjae didn’t know it was possible to strip to such music, but Zelo, again, makes him realize new things.

He licks his lips as Zelo begins to rolls his body rhythmically and unbuttons his shirt. Youngjae swallows hard and fights to urge to hide his face behind his hands. He can’t believe what he’s seeing. When Youngjae’s fingers move up to shield his eyes, Zelo approaches him and gently pulls his hands back down to his lap.

“Don’t worry, I like being watched,” Zelo snickers.

The evolution of Youngjae denying his sexuality to being in a room with a man stripping before him is a bit much and fast. He’s surprised he’s sustained consciousness. The only thing allowing him to keep a grip on reality was the confidence Zelo moved with to the tempo.

“D-do you have a background in dance?” Youngjae somehow finds his voice.

Junhong stops mid-way in undoing his belt, “Yeah, I do. I’m currently doing a minor in it. Thanks for noticing, Jae.” Junhong rustles his blonde tresses.

Youngjae takes a deep breath, “C-can I see you dance normally? N-not that—that I hate what you’re doing,” his face is on fire.

Zelo laughs, “Somehow, that’s the weirdest request I’ve ever gotten. Sure, though,” he proceeds to take off his pants, leaving him in tight black briefs, “Don’t worry, this is just for more comfort and flexibility.”

Youngjae says nothing as he admires the thick, toned legs. He wonders what those would feel like to straddle him. He averts his gaze to the carpet that may have been featured in an 80’s catalogue once upon a time.

The music changes once more to one with a heavier sound. Zelo stares at the floor waiting and when the beat drops his moves become almost mechanical. His arms and legs move with such precision that Youngjae can only perceive as inhuman. It’s smooth and tight like he knows every move five beats beforehand. Each move is a seamless transition.

Zelo twirls and falls to the floor onto his back for a premeditated drop, and he’s back on his feet in under a second again.

When the set ends, Zelo is sweating but Youngjae feels like he’s the one that needs to be catching his breath. He almost forgets to clap. “That was amazing,” Youngjae exclaims.

Zelo makes his way towards the couch and lays down, head in Youngjae’s lap, “You’re really cute when you watch me dance,”

Youngjae laughs, “I bet you say that to all the girls.”

Zelo shrugs, “Maybe.”

With a shaky hand, Youngjae moves to smooth Zelo’s hair out of his face. After, Zelo takes his hand and kisses Youngjae’s palm with a cheeky smile. He presses it against his warm cheek, like he’s asking to be caressed. Youngjae never understood what it meant to melt when he came across it in novels, but he feels thoroughly reduced to a puddle right now.

“Will you come back tomorrow, too?” Zelo asks, basking in the feeling of Youngjae running his fingers through his hair.

 

Youngjae returns for the third night in a row and wonders how gullible he must be to fall for such an obvious ploy. Strippers must be master emotional manipulators to keep their steady flow of income. And, somehow, Youngjae is okay with that. Or so he says.

Zelo is already dancing on the stage, shirt off, when Youngjae enters. A crowd of drunk women are seated around him. They’re whooping and hollering, eager to see what is beneath his pants. Youngjae doesn’t blame them, although a bubble of anger wells up inside him.

Jesus, he sure hopes he isn’t smitten with a stripper.

(he thinks as he stands in a middle of a strip club for the third day in a row)

Zelo doesn’t see Youngjae immediately. He’s busy using his teeth to take a crisp five dollar bill from the hand of a woman. The woman fans herself and laughs with her friends.

Youngjae feels silly amongst all the lights and screams. He has to wake up tomorrow at six in the morning. He shouldn’t be out. Everything is a business transaction here. Nothing genuine truly exists.

He manages to squeeze himself in between two girls and reach the stage. Zelo’s back is to him as he smiles at another customer. Reaching into his pocket, Youngjae pulls out another hundred dollars to pay for last night’s private room.

The bouncer furrows his brow as he watches Youngjae’s figure retreat out the door.

 

After closing hours, Junhong sits with the other dancers. He’s pouting with his face smothered into his arms on the bar counter as everyone else talks about their night’s earnings. Jae didn’t show up. She promised, too. He hopes nothing bad happened to her.

Yongguk plops down on the bar stool next to him. He pats his shoulder, “What’s wrong, Romeo? Have a fight with your crush?”

“She didn’t show up today,” Junhong whines before taking a shot.

Yongguk frowns, “No, she definitely did. I saw her come and leave. Although, it was like a span of ten minutes.”

Junhong shoots up, “What? Why didn’t she come and see me then?”

Yongguk shrugs, “Who knows. You seemed pretty busy tonight, I wouldn’t be surprised if you accidentally missed her. Anyway, you don’t have time to be falling in love with patrons. That’s a pretty bad business model.”

Junhong waves his hand, “I’m graduating from school soon anyway and will stop dancing in a couple of weeks. Besides, did you see how cute she was? She blushes at everything and it’s adorable,” he sighs.

“Maybe she’ll be back tomorrow,” Yongguk comforts his friend.

“Maybe,” Junhong’s lips thin out into a line.

Youngjae doesn’t come back tomorrow or the day after, either.

Youngjae is done going to _The Cheery-O_.

All he wanted to do was to figure out his sexuality and he did that. Now it’s time to return back to work and growing his small app developing company. He throws himself into work for a month and occasionally he thinks back to Zelo.

Himchan enters Youngjae’s office, “Yo, Jae, you have three job interviews for programmers today. Try to remember to eat lunch beforehand, okay?”

Youngjae doesn’t remember, but it doesn’t matter that much.

The first two interviews go by quickly. The two men are in their senior year of university and about to graduate. Looking over the third applicant’s resume, it seems to be the general trend for today.

There’s a knock at his door.

“Come in,” Youngjae says as he straightens out his tie.

Entering into the room is a tall, young man with an oddly familiar tie. Youngjae bites his tongue as he’s about to say Zelo’s name. He looks down at the resume, “Oh—uhhh… it’s very nice to meet you, Junhong.”

Youngjae’s life is a joke.

Junhong stares at Youngjae longer than what seems appropriate. He takes a seat in front of Youngjae’s desk. “I hope you don’t mind me asking, but do you have a sister?”

Youngjae clears his throat, “No, I don’t. Anyway, so this interview—”

Junhong’s eyes glance down at his nameplate, “Youngjae…” he says to himself, testing the name. His eyes dart back and forth between it and Youngjae until his eyebrows raise. “Aren’t you—”

“Shhhhh…” Youngjae hushes him, looking frantically around the room as if there was someone else in the office. “Oh god, wow. I don’t know how to explain myself. But… ummm… this company may not be the best place to work considering the circumstances,” Youngjae’s face is as red as a rose.

Junhong leans back in his chair and crosses his legs, “I’m not one to kink shame—”

“No, no, no,” Youngjae breathes, “I’m not into that kind of stuff, I was just nervous about being seen in a strip club. But—oh god, it doesn’t sound any better trying to explain it. I was thinking maybe I was gay and wanted to find out and I figured I would go down to _ya know_. And, as it turns out, I am very gay, thanks to you,” Youngjae covers his face as the words vomit out of his mouth.

“I’m bi,” Junhong states.

“Jesus. Please stop talking. This is not the time or the place and, wow, you’re not helping.”

“Wanna get dinner tonight?”

“Yes, thank you.”


End file.
